


A Pale Reflection

by MissCricket



Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCricket/pseuds/MissCricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Riddick loses everything he holds dear, he sends himself out into the vacuum of space and finds something that reminds him of what he's tried to leave behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pale Reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siluria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siluria/gifts).



> Written in 2011 for Siluria, who asked for obsessed!Stalker!Riddick/Bones. I decided it was about time I put some of my favourite fics I wrote up here.

You don’t age in cryo.

It was one of the many factors he considered when he strapped himself into the frigate, sent it spiraling off into the deep unknown space and shut his body down into cryo-sleep.

He had hoped that the barely conscious state would stop the dreams, the images of Vaako, defiant, dark, beautiful, Vaako ripped to pieces before his eyes, dead just like Kira. He would have died too, if vengeance hadn't gripped him, if it hadn't driven him to utterly destroy Dame Vaako and everything she cherished, everything she possessed, fuck, anything she touched.

But then she was gone, and he was left. And he realised he didn't want to die. But he hadn't wanted to live either.

So space...the half life of cryo sleep.

Tormented by images of Vaako. Bolstered by shades of Dame Vaako’s destruction. They sustained him.

Until suddenly his eyes were open, lights shining into them, and a rough, almost familiar, voice was barking barely understood orders. A face swam into blurred, and then clear view.

“Vaako..” he breathed, hand shooting up to grip at hair that was short and scruffy and goddamn silky, not the tough, slick tail he remembered, “Vaako...”

Two womens' faces became visible, one blonde and uninteresting, the other...

“Bitch!” he snarled, lashing out towards the coffee coloured skin and dark eyes, “Not again!”

“Uhura!” he heard a voice nearby, and then orders, “Bones...put him out!”

And he blissfully knew no more.

~*~

When he woke he found himself in a room that was all clean lines, smooth and precise, unlike anything he had seen before. The Necromongers had preferred ornate, dark and twisted, and the slams he'd been in had never really been big on clean decor. Too hard to keep it that way with blood and guts and dirt.

The door slid open and his head snapped up, turning towards a dark haired man in a blue shirt, which looked like some kind of uniform. His breath sucked in sharply, eyes gazing at the man closely, over the oh so familiar features and the faint, but noticeable differences. This man wasn't Vaako, but fucking hell did he ever look like him.

“You're awake.” The man said, his voice even carrying a note of Vaako’s rumble, “ We've all been mighty curious about you. Mind tellin’ me your name?”

“You can call me Riddick.” He said, keeping his eyes firmly on the Vaako-but-not-Vaako before him, “And you are?”

“McCoy, Doctor Leonard McCoy.”

Not Vaako.

The Doctor asked him a number of questions, gave him a number of explanations and then left him to ‘get some rest’. Leaving him with his mind awhirl and processing.

He was somewhere completely unknown to him.

McCoy was not Vaako, not even close.

But he looked like him. And that was enough to pique his interest.

~*~

Over the next week or two he got to know McCoy better, and by extension some of the crew. The dark skinned woman he had lashed out at in delirium was Uhura, nothing like Dame Vaako, and she had accepted his ‘apology’ gracefully. The apology being a mumbled explanation of ‘you looked like someone else’.

The man who had ordered him sedated was Jim Kirk, the Captain of the ship. He spent a great deal of his time around McCoy, which he found annoying. He didn't want to share his Vaako doppelganger with anyone.

The Vulcan, Spock. Spock unnerved him, but he also respected him. Out of everyone on the ship, in a fight, he would least want to face Spock. Behind that bland exterior there was still a hint of a predator, and he would do well to be wary of it.

The others were...unimportant.

~*~

Bit by bit he insinuated himself into McCoy’s life. Bit by bit he pushed himself closer to the other man. Bit by bit he wore down the defenses.

Like any good animal would, stalking its prey.

He loved McCoy, loved him because he reminded him of Vaako. Because it thrilled and pained him to see the resemblances and the differences.

He hated McCoy because McCoy was not Vaako. Could never be Vaako. McCoy was softer, kinder. Vaako was like black stone, polished and beautiful.

But he had to have McCoy. At least once he had to have McCoy.

It would pale in comparison to Vaako...but he had to have the shadow, than nothing.

~*~

Leonard entered his room one night, and the light didn't turn on when he commanded it to.

Looking around, all he saw were two gleaming eyes, night eyes, cat eyes, animal eyes.

“Riddick?”

A low chuckle rose out of the darkness.

“Vaako.”

~*~

Morning came and found McCoy alone in his bed.

Morning came and found Riddick gone.

Morning came and found a trail of blood running from McCoy’s throat to the wall.

Morning found the words etched there. “You keep what you kill.”

~*~

“But he didn't kill you Bones.”

McCoy smiled sadly at Jim, remembering the name Riddick breathed over and over again.

“It wasn't me he wanted to keep.”


End file.
